


A Wanderer's End

by BirdLover345



Series: One-shots [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Death, Gen, I feel bad but at the same time I kinda don't, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdLover345/pseuds/BirdLover345
Summary: It's been three years since the apocalypse started. Most of Hermitcraft is scattered throughout the world in small groups, pieces of the original server.One of these groups is made up of Cleo, False and Stress, who recently found a peaceful area, free of zombies. They decide to take the time to relax for a bit of time.They should have realized that peaceful times rarely last.
Relationships: None
Series: One-shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876789
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	A Wanderer's End

~《◇》~

It's been three years since Concorp accidentally started the apocalypse. Hermitcraft is nothing but a memory, and its members are scattered throughout the land. Some of the closer-knit groups still wander together, trying to find food and shelter. 

One of these groups was the Hermitgals, as they liked to call themselves, consisting of three people. Stress, the only good cook out of the three of them; False, an incredibly talented warrior who protected the group from the zombies that seem to be everywhere; and Cleo, who used to be a scholar, and is now searching for a cure to the poison that was created.

The three girls recently found an abandoned village, filled to the brim with supplies. It was absurd, considering most of civilization had collapsed a couple of months into the apocalypse, but this one must have stayed strong up until very recently, as most of the unharvested crops were fresh. There were footsteps in the muddy ground, and it felt like they had arrived at most a week after the citizens left or-

Well, let’s just hope they left. 

There were a lot of homes, spread throughout the area. Most were stripped of resources, but a couple still had canned food in the cupboards. The girls had quickly gathered supplies, from harvesting the crops to tearing down some of the unused buildings for building materials. It’s their third day, and they’ve decided to rest here for another four days before moving on. It’s a risky move, yes, but they’ve been moving from place to place daily for three years due to being in the wilderness. They’ve decided a break now is as safe as it will ever be. 

Little did they know that that would be a massive mistake.

~《◇》~

I wake up. For a second, I’m confused as to why I’m not in a tent, then I remember. We found a village, and we’re spending a week here.  _ I should take the time to continue the notes I have. I don’t have much, because I haven’t been able to get the closest look at the zombies. False keeps warning me that the dead zombies might not be fully dead, and keeps shooing me away from the corpses. _ It’s annoying, but I know she’s right. If it woke up, all it would take is one scratch and I’d be a goner. Not dead, just mindless, hunting down people who used to be my friends. 

I shudder. _ That’s definitely a fate I don’t want. Luckily, that won’t ever happen to me. Not because I’m confident that I won’t get turned. I’m not that optimistic. _ I look at the band on my right wrist. It’s plain and metallic, with nothing but a single emerald embedded into the center. It may look simple, but the gem actually contains a poison. If I press on the emerald, it gets released onto my skin, quickly and painlessly killing me.  _ It’s sad, but better than having my last conscious thoughts be me realizing that I will probably kill or get killed by my friends.  _

Back when they were still travelling with us, Iskall and Mumbo made them for everyone in the group. _ I wonder what happened to them? I know Grian is dead, and Iskall and Mumbo left after that, worried that the larger group made it harder for us to escape an attack. Are they still alive? Who knows. Trying to find out won’t help.  _

Flipping through the pages, I take a look at the notes I have so far.  _ This would be a lot easier if I knew what was in the poison, but Cub and Scar died really early on before I got a chance to ask. Now I’m stuck finding traces of the ingredients on the corpses. In theory, each ingredient will have a counter, and putting the counters together in a potion will neutralize every part of the poison, curing the victim.  _

Quickly realizing I missed one, I write down the neutralizer for wither roses. A healing potion steeped with rose petals. That one is a bit trickier than most, but still doable. There’s also a couple of sketches of the different zombies I saw. It seems that the wound that turned them glows a bright blue, while the rest of the skin is green. It’s still open on the corpse, so that would probably be the place for placing the antidote, so it could most easily enter the system. 

Lost in my thoughts, the silence is suddenly broken by Stress knocking on the door. 

“Cleo! Ello! Are you awake yet? Me and False are already out!” 

“Coming Stress! I was just looking through my notes.” 

I quickly get dressed and exit the home. It’s a lovely, sunny day. The village, if it was still intact, would probably look lively. Now, it’s just half-standing buildings, a well in the center, and grass. 

“So, is there anywhere, in particular, you guys want to go?”

“Well, False suggested going up to the flower meadow a bit north of here, she thinks that we should brush up on our fighting skills. Doesn’t want us always relying on her, both for our safety and hers.”

“Sounds good! When are we heading out?” 

“Soon! We’re gonna eat first, then go.”

I walk over to the center of the village, where a small pot hangs over a fire. Inside a vegetable stew roasts, made up of part of the crops we harvested. It smells incredible. Taking in a deep breath, I grab the hand-carved bowl Stress made and the ladle and pour myself a couple of spoonfuls. Walking over to an empty part of the grass, I start eating. 

“This tastes amazing Stress!”

“Why, fanks! Methinks its the fresh crops that made a difference.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” False comments as she walks over. “There’s no way I could ever make something that tastes this good.”

“Well, maybe it’s just because you can’t cook,” teases Stress. She pours two more bowls, one for herself and one for False, before taking a seat. We spend the meal in silence, each savouring the wonderful food, and the peaceful morning. After around twenty minutes, everyone is done, and ready to leave. 

False leads the way, Stress right behind her, and I stay in the back. The walk doesn’t take too long, and we suddenly arrive at a wide-open field, covered in different kinds of flowers. I can see why they wanted to train here. It has lots of space, and more importantly, it’s one of the first places that I’ve seen in years that actually feels alive. 

We’ve trained enough to know False’s routine, so we jump right in. Ten minutes stretching, a half-hour of general exercises, then the skill she wants us to learn until we learn it or it’s time to leave. 

We are well into training, in this case just going through the basics again because we are ‘rusty’, apparently, when we suddenly hear the telltale shuffling of-   
  


“Zombies!” False yells out. “Move, now.” 

We fan out, each covering the other two girls’ backs so that no one is caught off guard. I start fighting instinctively, cutting down zombies left and right, keeping them away from the others. I’m so focused on the safety of the others, I forget about keeping myself safe. After what feels like an eternity, all of them are gone. 

All of a sudden, I feel a sharp sting in my left shoulder, followed by nausea. I let out a cry, and Stress and False run over. Looking over, my worst fears have been confirmed. Three deep strikes, from the zombie’s claw. Around the wound, green spiderwebs start spreading. 

_ I’m turning into a zombie.  _

“It’s going to be ok guys,” I lie. I don’t want them to break. I want them to keep going. So, I reassure them. “I’ll be fine, trust me.” 

I try to reach the bracelet on my right wrist, but my arms have gone numb. I start to panic.

“I can’t move my arms, guys. Can you please activate the bracelet for me?” 

  
  


~《◇》~

I stand there in shock. Cleo’s dying. She can’t be dying,  _ I messed up, I should have trained her better, I should have paid more attention, I should have done something better- _

Looking over, I see Stress is in tears. She whispers out, “Is there any way we can stop this? Surely there has to be, please.”

“Not for me, no. But you can keep my notes. There’s a lot of stuff there, and even if you don’t understand, you’ll eventually find someone who does.”

Stress is still frozen as Cleo continues. “I don’t have much time left before I turn, and I can’t bear the thought that I hurt one of you. Please, just do it.”

I kneel down, taking Cleo’s right arm. It’s now almost completely covered in neon green spiderwebs. Finding the band, I hesitate.  _ Am I really going to kill my best friend?  _

_ Yes.  _

_ It’s for the better, both her and us.  _

Then I press the gem. Cleo manages to let out a soft goodbye before her body relaxes and drops down to the ground. 

“She’s gone.” 

I’m not sure which one of us said that. Not like it mattered anyway. The only thing that matters is that Cleo is dead. 

  
  


~《◇》~

It’s been four years since Cleo’s death. The world is a much different place than back then. Stress and False found a haven, built specifically for events like this. It thrived, and had created a small society of its own. Many of the hermits were already there when the two girls arrived. 

Using the information that Cleo found, they created an antidote, curing all of the zombies that could still be saved, and putting the ones who couldn’t be to rest. Although they were reassured that Cleo would have been too far gone to attempt to save her, False and Stress often wonder about what would have happened if they had the chance to try. 

Once the antidote was mass-produced, it was sent throughout the world, until it eradicated the zombie disease. The world never truly recovered, but it started to get back on its feet. Now, it’s finally at a point where survival isn’t a desperate battle, but instead relying on others to help you do more in life. There’s now time for entertainment, and Hermitcraft is slowly starting back up again. Both False and Stress returned. On most days, at this time, they would be working on their next videos. But today is not most days. 

Both girls stand just outside the memorial, each with a hand-selected bouquet in hand. The memorial is a garden near the center of the haven, with five stone statues. Each represents a hermit lost in the apocalypse. 

For Cub, a gear, to represent his innovation and ability to keep going even in the darkest times.    
  


A magic crystal for Scar, to represent his affinity for magic and exciting creations. 

An elytra for Grian, to represent his love of flying and his optimistic outlook on life. 

For Xisuma, a bee, to symbolize both his affection for the small animals and to represent his calm demeanour and willingness to protect his friends. 

And for Cleo, a syringe, to commemorate her aid in the creation of a vaccine, and her willingness to sacrifice herself for the good of everyone. 

As the two girls walked through the garden, they chatted about their memories of Cleo, wondering about what she would have done in this new life of theirs. Eventually, they slowed, reaching the final memorial. Wordlessly, they unwrapped their bouquets and laid them down on the stone, each flower chosen because of stories known only to them. 

“Four years doesn’t make it any easier, does it,” False comments as Stress starts to tear up. 

“No, it really doesn’t. I miss you, Cleo.” 

“So do I Stress, so do I.” False sits down, her eyes welling up with tears. Taking a few of the flowers she placed on the grave, she begins to weave a flower crown. “Remember how Cleo taught us how to do this? Back before the apocalypse? I originally thought it was kind of childish, but I can see why she does- did it. It’s calming.” 

Stress is doing the same, weaving the flowers together into a circle. They sit there for a few hours, creating crowns for themselves and all of their closest friends. Cleo used to do it on her birthday, and the two saw it fitting to continue that legacy. They gathered them all and prepared to give them out, but first placed one mad up of violets on the memorial.

By the time they finished delivering them all, it was evening, and the two parted for the day. Grief was a difficult struggle they dealt with constantly, but having someone there to help made things a little easier. 

  
  


~《◇》~


End file.
